Today I Learned Cornrows Helped Slaves Escape
and uncovered something else for myself about language and oppression
I hadn’t known before: cornrows conveyed messages.
It’s only common sense: why wouldn’t they? So does clothing, other hairstyles, makeup, and posture.
Reading the language of cornrows was probably as difficult for enemies, or during slavery — slave owners, trackers, and other bad-meaning people — as it is for today’s English readers to comprehend even simplified Chinese.
And for some reason this fascinating fact that I learned for the first time gives me another insight into what I do.
I do have my own language. It’s not the most inventive one, not like cornrows.
But it is the language of observation, experience, feeling, and ultimately, definition. This is the process I’d teach students, showing them the example of Dr. Oliver Sacks.
Maybe it’s a little bit of the language of the Golden Rule: treat others as you would like to be treated. Think about others as you would like to be thought of.
I’ve ever been my own worst critic, so I think maybe the more I find myself able to understand and forgive myself, the more I may be able to understand others, even if they’re doing harm. Understanding someone or something isn’t the same as approving of bad behaviors that harm others (and often, also harm the bad actor).
I think this is true: everyone has their own language.
Another new thing I learned today
Everyone does have their own language as far as linguistics is concerned. The concept is called idiolect.
The Greek prefix idio- refers that which is one’s own or unique to a person, and the suffix -lect, which refers to speaking; apparently in Greek “lect” literally means “to speak.”
This brings to my mind the word “lecture,” which today means a public speech or speech to a group on a topic.
It brings to my mind idiot, of course, and the film Idiocracy.
It’s almost like the origin of these words is a guy saying: “Having your own language is stupid — use this one instead.” We’ll provide it for you.
Today, a friend asked me to help her get started writing her own book.
I tried to give her the most helpful advice I could, from my perspective of what I’d want or need to hear if I were looking to start a book for the first time. In other words, I tried to speak my best language to respond to the language I know from her.
I have confidence her project will go well, and I already know from working with her that she has important experience a writer needs: the diligence and persistence to succeed.
Here we are in 2024, two ladies who probably would be sharing dinner recipes back in 1924. Yet I think, it’s also true that ladies had some fun in those days and a great deal of communication with each other. Maybe they had their talk in the form of cornrows or the jewelry they wore, or their favorite color of lipstick.
Inventing a new shared language together
I was impressed that Medium recently achieved its 1-millionth member. I found that really significant and I started wondering if the original goal of Medium, opening a real, human dialog between people about things that mattered, was really moving along well. Like really well, better than anybody could have imagined before 2012, when Medium launched.
I even shared this on my social media, in an attempt to help people to understand there’s something different, something special at play with Medium.
How many times have others told me, “Oh, that’s your blog.”
I’ve had three successive blogs. I was a BlogHer winner (almost like getting friended by Tom from Myspace). An early body positivity advocate invented an (idiotic, lol) series of fake emails to try to portray to others I was fat-phobic. I sat by and watched as Mr. Moron established a blog to state my daughter or I had murdered Anthony. It’s not that what either of these two said was true, or their motives were good; both had no trouble inventing a false language to achieve their aims. Both — because it was a poor, false, wrong language — failed.
Medium isn’t a blog.
As it has functioned for me, Medium has given me a daily place where I can learn and I can use my own language to communicate that learning.
To communicate it to others, as well as to myself.
That, especially in the sense of giving voice to those who have not had the ability to communicate using written words — in addition to cornrows and clothing and makeup and hair — is so very powerful.
This is such a fundamental way in which the world is changing and I believe we should all be — I’m looking for the word —
marveling
At the wonder of it.
At suddenly being able to read the cornrows for the good reasons.
Note: this really doesn’t apply to Substack, but it may soon, with less hierarchical focus on sales funnels and more on dialog.